


Orange Vortex of Interdimensional Energy

by K_Popsicle



Category: Doctor Strange (2016)
Genre: Costumes, Gen, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 09:48:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20946347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Popsicle/pseuds/K_Popsicle
Summary: Strange and Wong investigate an anomaly.





	Orange Vortex of Interdimensional Energy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sholio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/gifts).

There’s a gate and a spotty teenager sitting in front of it, and not a sign of the anything that could have caused the Sanctum’s alarms to ring. The teen is in a reaper costume, plastic scythe, and polyester robe hanging off one shoulder but he’s more focused on his phone than them. Strange looks at him and dismisses him.

“This is really the place?” He checks with Wong, because all he can hear are other teenagers screaming and shouting in the park beyond the gate. It’s near midnight and Halloween if all the pumpkins are to be believed. Personally, Strange would much rather be at the Sanctum with his books then dealing with whatever emergency this is. But Wong is persuasive.

“We must enter.” Wong insists looking stoic as ever. Strange wants to ruffle his hair but refrains because he’s having a bad enough night and doesn’t need to add to it by incurring Wong’s wrath. He had been reading a tome on the balance of energies required for shifting temporal planes, a cup of warm tea and some 1970’s jazz playing.

“Twenty-five dollars and you need to be in costume.” The barely post-pubescent kid tells him when Strange reaches for the gate. Strange pauses, casts a _look_ at the distracted teen and tries to push the gate open all the same. Except it doesn’t open.

“Come on man,” the kid whines, “I don’t care what you wear but at least pay.”

“Wong?” He’s already reaching for his wallet while Wong explains that money is a mortal possession that as a sorcerer he is beyond such things. Strange does not point out all the Amazon deliveries Wong gets at the Sanctum and shoves fifty dollars at the kid who barely looks to take it and shoves it into a little fanny pack under his cheap black robe.

Strange tries the gate again. It does not open. “Really.” He grumbles at it and steps aside to let Wong try. Wong does a cursory spell to test for magic, and a pulse of blue-gold arches outwards from the gate and curves over the park. Strange can’t see how far it goes, but he’s willing to guess the entire park is surrounded. The kid is too absorbed in his phone to notice the magic it seems.

“The gates been strange, a couple kids couldn’t get in as well but no-one in costumes had trouble getting in.” The kid shrugs and makes no move to return their money or look at them. Strange reminds himself that he is a sorcerer and defender of Earth and their entire reality, which includes first year university students. 

“It appears there is a gatekeeper spell.” Wong confirms, “Costumes may be required.”

“That’s ominous.” Strange looks at the both of them, at Wong in his sorcerer robes because he realised it was Halloween and he didn’t have to try and blend in, and then his own jeans and t-shirt combo because there was something nice about being his old self once in a while. Then does a quick flick of his clothes and they settle into something resembling a costume. When he looks back up Wong is standing there in a perfect replica of his wizard robes, as in Strange’s robes, cloak of levitation included. “Really?” He asks in mock long suffering, and in reply Wong reaches a yellow glove out and opens the gate. He barely even wears the gloves but the gate doesn't’ care, it glides open smoothly and Strange levels a glare at it as well, because _really_. His own Frankenstein’s monster costume passes the test as well because they step through the gatekeeper spell without a hitch.

There’s a wave of magic that shifts over them, enough that they both draw up defensive magic, but whatever its purpose their quick shields seem to ward it off. The gate shuts behind them sealing them in.

“That,” Wong says, “was strange.”

“No, I’m Strange.” Strange replies just to see if he can get the man to smile. He can’t, apparently.

“No.” Wong says flatly then looks significantly at his own outfit, “I am Strange.” Strange doesn’t signify that with a reply and Wong barks out a laugh like it had been trapped inside for a while. He didn’t cause it, but he takes it as a win, and with his back to the man flicks a bit of magic changes the other man's costume to something more to his liking.

Nothing seems amiss with the park, necessarily. Nothing but teenagers screaming and running amok. Strange thinks aside from the gatekeeper spell which could have been cast by a teenager stumbling across a book and reading ancient Latin poorly (it is, ridiculously, more common than he’d have believed until he was given charge of the Sanctum) there’s no proof of anything untoward happening. But a simple gatekeeper spell shouldn’t be enough to have set off the Sanctums alarms.

At one point as they follow the winding paths a punk teenager, pins and spiked hair, stumbles out of the bushes into his side and shouts, “What are you dressed as a loser?” before diving across the footpath back into the trees. Strange looks down at himself and discovers he’s in blue scrubs, a face mask down around his neck, and stupid hat. He casts a look to Wong who's still in the costume Strange put him in and smirks.

“Really, Wong?” He asks but doesn’t do anything about the outfit because that would be admitting defeat. He does say, “nice hat” though because he wants Wong to know that they’re on a level playing field. Wong frowns and reaches up to touch the bright blue conical hat.

Wong gives him a level look that is ruined by blue felt robes dotted with gaudy silver stars but also does not change them back.

“Merlin,” Strange explains, “since you don’t like last names.”

“A surgeon,” Wong explains right back, “because you’re a doctor.” He walks ahead of strange, long robes dragging in the crisp autumn leaves and adds, “Merlin had a last name.”

“Maybe, but nobody knows it.” Strange countered a bounce in his step as he followed. He threw a new outfit at Wong though, it wouldn’t do to let the man get comfortable.

It towards the middle of the park where the shouts and screaming take on a slightly more hysterical tone. 

“It’s Halloween.” Strange spit balls to Wong who has stopped to listen. Strange is torn between trying to figure out what is happening in the park and being amused by Wong’s broad shoulders on display in his big bird yellow “Hold Up” Beyoncé gown. It is a sight to behold, and he wishes he had his camera to capture this moment forever. He’s not sure why he never thought to do it before but his life was lacking until this moment.

Someone screams nearby and they both take off running, Wong’s bright yellow flowing behind him like a cape of its own, and Strange has a moment to realise that he feels like he’s wearing a cape as well, which is not standard practice for ER scrubs but he doesn’t have time to explore that before they’ve come across the source of the scream.

There’s a girl, no older than nineteen struggling to escape the hold of a boy her own age. She’s clearly no match for his strength because even when she lands a hit to the side of his head he doesn’t pull away from where he’s nuzzled in against her neck. Strange’s magic throws the boy from her before they’ve gotten close, and that’s when he sees the spray of blood. Wong changes direction for the boy in furious rage and Strange is almost at the distressed girl when another girl sprints in from the side-lines where she’d clearly been watching.

What happens next Strange couldn’t quite explain, one moment he’s ready to administer first aid to what is clearly a neck injury, and the next he’s been overtaken by a girl in a slutty nurse outfit whose putting pressure on the wound and administering fairly competent first aid and shouting “I’m an ER Nurse I’ve got this!”. And at the same time the boy is trying to lunge past Wong. He’s restrained with golden threads of magic around his upper torso and a very furious man in a yellow ball gown. He’s got blood on his face, fangs, actual fangs not cheap plastic ones, but he’s costumes the same cheap nylon of the kid at the main gate.

“What is happening?” Strange asks watching the boy struggle to get closer to his victim, his eyes starting to turn red, and the clearly-not-a-nurse start ripping strips of material from the victim’s poodle skirt to help stem the blood flow. The boy is clearly the biggest problem, so Strange conjures some rope from their storehouse and with Wong’s aid they tie him to a tree where he continues to struggle against the bindings. Then he moves the ‘nurse’ aside and checks the wound himself, much to her consternation. It’s not as bad as it looked, which is always nice, but the girl needs medical aid.

“Can you get her back to the gate?” He asks the nurse, keeping eye contact because no other part of her is safe to look at. But she nods professionally, hoists the girls arm over her shoulder and walks her off. The boy rages in his confines and Strange ignores him. “Wong?” He asks, and Wong offers him a small bag of candy that he’s gotten from somewhere. Strange takes one because why not then waits.

“I believe they have become their costumes.” Wong unhelpfully supplies because Strange thinks even a pre-schooler would have noticed that one after that display.

“I think I’ve seen this movie.” Is all Strange can really offer in reply because he feels dead inside. This is not why he became a world changing sorcerer. This wasn’t on the brochure and sometimes he thinks - no he knows - the Ancient One kept this kind of thing from him on purpose.

To distract himself he looks to see why he’s in a cape and finds he’s dressed in black velvet and white, with a big black bowtie. “A vampire?” He asks, because he doesn’t immediately recognise the outfit, but it has a half cloak of black and red so vampire might be a good guess.

“Doctor Who, the Third Doctor,” Wong explains, “my personal favourite.” Which is… a lot of information from Wong but since Strange isn’t in a bright yellow dress with more froof than from he can’t complain.

“Very well.” Strange agrees, and then someone else screams near them.

They administer two more rescues, one from a wolf girl and another from a zombie, both of whom have to be tied to their own trees respectively, before they have to make an executive decision.

Wong looks more unimpressed than usual as Strange scans the air around them looking for answers, but all that’s coming back are flickers of energy that feel foreign but not malicious.

“It feels like cheap magic, a party trick just bigger.” Strange admits and Wong who is doing his own analysis hums in agreement.

“Cheap magic done well is still a threat.” Is all he says sagely and Strange flips his costume because he’s pretty sure Wong knows exactly what he’s wearing and is pretending to be above noticing it, that or he’s enjoying the outfit which Strange doesn’t want to delve into because he’s not ready to know some things. He puts Wong in the Bjork swan outfit because there’s nothing like upping the ante. Beyoncé dress? Sure, anyone can feel empowered in that, but dead swan outfit? No self-respecting human can pull that off.

“We can’t deal with the symptoms here, we’ll have to cut to the cause.” Strange decides, and they hear someone else scream, and something else howl, but if they want whatever this is to stop they’ll have to get to the core rather than let it linger. It’s a hard call because the instinct is to help, but they’ve learned there’s a lot of magic that requires two people, and they’ll protect more people dealing with the problem head on.

They change direction and head towards what feels like the centre of the disturbance by mutual agreement.

There’s a big old house in the middle of the park, because of course there is, and it’s quite clear the source of the magic is inside. It’s been decorated with pumpkins and fake (maybe real) spider webs, and a few plastic hanging skeletons. Strange rubs at the bridge of his nose and steps up onto the porch with Wong at his side.

There’s a kid dressed as a clown sitting on the porch, he’s tucked into the corner, crying, and cradling a pumpkin in his lap. Strange doesn’t want to know, but also hesitates long enough to hear the kid mumbling reassurances to the pumpkin, and offering it balloon animals to make it feel better. Strange decides it’s best he doesn’t ask, and Wong steps on ahead of him to make sure he isn’t tempted.

He hears, as he steps into the house, the honk honk of a clown horn and feels pained in his soul. To make himself feel better he changes Wong’s outfit to a big orange cat with tail and ears. He always did like the Garfield comic.

The house is large and has many many rooms. Following the ebb and flow of the power to its source is useless because they are too close to the epicentre to get a clear read on it, no matter how fine-tuned their spells might be.

They go from room to room, encountering one bizarre costumed person after the other. There’s a person dressed as a cat, who seems to want to be Wong’s best friend forever once it sees his costume. A younger teen with devil horns and a pitch fork chasing hippies around the lounge room and cackling. A ghost that’s shifting through the walls, but not actually doing anything to anyone.

In one room on the top floor they find Captain America fighting a T-Rex, kindly they lock them both in separate closets and move on. Captain America cosplay boy is impressive because he’s got a stubborn streak that means he’s still shouting when they make their escape to the next room.

The bathroom has a man in a shark onesie submerged under the water, he’s got more teeth than any respectable human could ever want. There’s a pile of bones on the stairwell, and a dog like person gnawing on one. They chase the dog person away and put a shield over the bones because they don’t want to move them but don’t want to leave them as they are.

All in all, the house is a madhouse and they are both glad when they get to the basement and find no-ones there. The thing is in the basement when they finally find it, because of course it is, and they both stare at the swirling orange vortex in the ground uncertainty. Wong hides the uncertainty better, which Strange is annoyed about because honestly, he’s entire job was about oversaturated confidence in stressful situations. Sure he _knew_ what he was doing as a surgeon, but you could never doubt your own actions. There had been a lot of very smart and dedicated people trying to reach his rank who hesitated at the wrong moment and threw it all away. Strange was not one of them.

“Thoughts?” Strange checks, as he sorts through the multitude of things he’s read about that most resemble the thing before them.

“It is a nexus to another dimension in the basement of a Halloween Haunted House.” Wong says in complete seriousness. Strange wants to shake him a little, because no-ones that unflappable but instead he says, “So it would seem,” and sets about searching for any kind of clue as to how it came about. These things sometimes happened on their own, but it was more often than not an idiot had made them happen. If the idiot was on their side of the rift or the other… that remained to be seen.

Wong finds the first hint of an answer, there’s a sigil etched into one of the support beams, and then after that they find a series of matching ones throughout the basement. They skirt the vortex carefully. They’re all a bit messy, a bit everywhere, but what they are above all else is _old_.

“These have been here since this building was built.” Wong guesses.

“Which means the vortex has been here just as long.” Strange agrees.

“Unless someone has recently activated it.” But the room barely looks disturbed, a few footprints in the soft packed dirty, but nothing like the rattle and shake opening something this big would have caused.

“Is it possible someone built the house over the vortex on purpose?” Strange finds the idea absurd, living on top of something so unstable on purpose, but he’s not sure how you could open something like this without causing damage to the structure.

“It is possible. A nexus like this bleeds out magic over time, it could sustain many creatures or sorcerers. There are many similar nexus’ across the world with their own guardians.”

Strange turns that information over, “So can we close it?”

“We have the tools to close one this established, but it would take many years.” Is the reply Wong gives him. They stare at the swirl of orange and black and Strange kicks a small rock into the void curious. It hisses and vanishes and nothing comes back out. It’s frustratingly benign all in all, because he could draw up the power to close it, but the question of balance and what it would unsettle is too big to throw aside for a show of power and a neat bow on a problem that hasn’t been a problem for the hundred or so years there’s been a house on the site.

“We can’t remove the problem easily then, but if it’s been stable until now, what of the instigator?” Strange casts a seer spell, the flicker of magic illuminates the dusty basement and settle into the form of a teenager, a plastic scythe in his hands and a nylon robe over his shoulders. The image isn’t perfectly clear, particles of light creating a picture of the past, but Strange is fairly sure the boy is reading something off his phone screen.

He hisses through his teeth and drops the spell.

“Front gate?” he checks and Wong doesn’t disagree so there’s that.

They make it to the front gate quickly, pass all of the crazy costumed people they meet on the way in and by the time they’re back at the gate Strange expects the kid to be gone, but he’s still on his phone, his scythe on the ground at his feet and his converse sneakers sticking out from below the robes.

“Have fun?” He asks absently and scrolls to another image.

Strange opens a portal below him and drops him one foot to the left just to startle him. It certainly gets his attention and the next moment they’re facing off an angry nineteen-year-old and his glowing hands.

“What the hell man?” The boy demands, then looks at where he was and where he is surprised. “How’d you do that? That was so cool.”

Strange raises his arm to do something spectacular and intimidating and notices his arm is red, bright red and clad in a skin-tight nylon. He casts a look back at Wong in his bedazzled and semi-transparent Cher outfit and decides he won't mention it. “You will break the spells you have on this place.” He states instead, and the kid scoffs and folds his arms stubbornly. “People are dying.” Strange reiterates, remembering his Do No Harm oath because he’s tempted to harm.

“No-ones dying, Dr Pepper.” The kid snaps right back waving his phone around. “It’s just some fun.”

“There was a woman bleeding from her neck.”

“It’s Halloween, accidents happen. Besides she got in a cab with some freaked out girl. They’ll be fine.” The kid swipes to another picture on his screen.

Patience worn thin Strange steps into the kid’s space and pulls the phone out of his hands. The kid panics, tries to get it back, and Strange hands the thing over to get it out of the way.

“That’s mine.” The kid snaps, and his hands are back to glowing. Strange doesn’t move completely unintimidated by a teenager.

“Break the spells you’ve woven into this place or there will be consequences of which you cannot imagine.” He threatens. The kid rolls his eyes, and Strange’s blood pressure rises.

“I’ll break your phone.” Wong says flatly and the kid thinks it’s a joke, then sees Wong’s non-nonsense expression and panics.

“Hey hey, that things expensive.”

“Material possessions distract from the-” Wong hesitates like he doesn’t know what follows.

“Arcane?” Strange suggests, and Wong makes a little unhappy sound because apparently that wasn’t it.

“Girls?” The college kid suggests.

“-greater good.” Wong grinds out, probably more offended by the kid’s suggestion than Strange's, but Strange can’t be sure. “So, I will break your phone.”

“Hey don’t judge me. I’m not the one dressed as Cher!” The kid defends, and Strange sees out of the corner of his eye as Wong looks at what he’s wearing. There’s a very satisfying feeling of glee in him at the look of resigned horror Wong takes a second to squash, and then he’s friend is back to normal. It basically makes his night.

Wong opens a small portal below the hand holding the phone, “This is a portal to the Abyss of Datrigo, nothing has ever returned from its depths, you have three seconds before I drop your phone.” Wong threatens and they both feel the moment the kid breaks the spells he has on the park because apparently that’s all it takes. There’s a wave of magic as it all pulls back into the vortex, then there’s a moment of eerie silence before people inside the park start calling for help.

“I was just trying to give people a good Halloween.” The kid explains with a whine in his voice. Strange doesn’t believe him at all, he’s never seen a teenager less interested in Halloween. He doesn’t give the boy time to second question his choices, grabs his wrists and casts a binding on him. It doesn't take much, because he’s not trying to squash the boy’s potential, just limit and guide it. He does not want to create some sort of crazed kid who wants to kill him for denying him access to magic. Fool him once, and all that.

When it’s done Wong returns the phone, and by then emergency services have come to deal with all the traumatised teenagers in the park. If Strange could think of a way to do it, he’d have the boy arrested and charged, but it’s not that easy to tell police that someone did something with “magic” so he lets it go with a stern warning to the kid and a sworn oath that he’ll refund all the teenagers.

With the work done Strange changes his clothes back, then he straightens his robes out. He sees Wong is doing the same and considers another costume for the man, but Wong seems to sense it and glares at him pre-emptively.

“Well,” Strange agrees, “maybe next Halloween.”

“If you ever dress me in a swan again I will put leeches in your bed, while you are asleep.”

Strange pauses at the image of that and makes a clear mental note to never ever dress his friend as Bjork again. But notes, happily, that that is the only restriction and he has a whole year to think up something better. Maybe next year he’ll just stick to Beyoncé, Wong hadn’t seemed to mind that.

“Breakfast?” He asks because the sky is lightening up and it’s never too early for breakfast.

“I’m not changing.”

“Today, no-one will even notice.” Strange promises, or more they’ll notice but not say anything because it’s Halloween.

“I have no money.” Wong adds like an ultimatum.

“When do you?” Strange counters, but he’s smiling, because they won, the world is safe, reality is safe, and his stoic friend lets slip the smallest smile that he quickly flattens back down, but it’s too late because Strange already saw it and that’s what counts.

**Author's Note:**

> Other costumes considered for Wong: Pink, Adele, Bono, Flea, Ice-T, Oprah, Eminem, Sting, Prince, Jesus, Dracula, Zeus, Data, Spock.
> 
> Other costumes considered for Strange: Dr Watson, Dr McCoy, Dr Lecter, Doc Oc, Dr Evil, Dr Brown, Dr House, Dr Mario, Hawkeye (MASH), Dr Zaius, Dr Phil, Dr Frank-en-Furter, Dr Nick, Dr Venkman, Dr Strangelove.


End file.
